I remember coming back from summer vacation to grade school, as I am sure many of you do as well, and on the first day we were supposed to write about what we did while school was out. Many of my classmates wrote about their big trip to the Grand Canyon or of the family caravan across this great nation to Florida, but I usually just wrote about playing baseball. I never really had a big story to tell until this last summer. I don’t play baseball anymore, I’ve long since outgrown grade school, and I’m not really sure that you could term what I’ve been through as a vacation. What I am about to tell you is a story about two brothers and Jesus; a true story full of passion, friendship, and a love like no other.

Excitement was in the air that dark July morning, even though I had yet to wake up. It was 1 A.M. and my brother, Nic, and I were boarding the plane for our first international surf trip to Costa Rica. I was still pretty groggy when we finally sat in our seats and hoped that I would be able to sleep on the plane, a first for me. When I next opened my eyes we were in San Jose, Costa Rica and I felt rested.

Nic and I happily retrieved our massive board bag filled with much more than just our surfboards. It had taken some sweet-talking but Nic had successfully negotiated our bag onto the plane for a mere $25 dollars. The airline had wanted $100 as well as the bag going on as stand by, guaranteed to arrive within 6 business days. “That just would not do,” I remember Nic saying with an undertone of confidence and winking in my direction....read more